Running Spirit
I want to run forever.
Just run for ever.
Asphalt churning beneath my feet,
Breath surging in and out of lungs,
Thrusting forward with each bound.
But I tell myself there's nowhere to run.
So, I sit here.
Jittering about the room.
Joggling up and down stairs.
Peering out windows.
Death throes of a running spirit.
©2001-12-24
MSKing, hermitism.com
I feel exactly the way this poem is. And that's all I have to say about what it means to me. I actually forgot I wrote this or I'd've put it up sooner. I was thumbing through an old notepad when I ran across it. Wow. says I, why didn't I put this up earlier? So I fixed that oversight. And look! (Well, you can't, but pretend you can.) I wrote a few story ideas on the back. I didn't even notice those! Better not throw this paper out, eh? ;)

